


Messages Of Love

by gala_apples



Series: Family Film [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Messages of love come in all forms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Messages Of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Jasley!

Brendon wakes up when Frank does. He’s not a super light sleeper, you can’t really be when there are five kids split between three bedrooms, with one bathroom. But the bed always quakes when Frank has to get up for work. He’s got the most unique method of self-arousal that Brendon’s witnessed, and when he was a kid Church sleepovers were a monthly, if not weekly, occurrence. Frank can hit the alarm within three seconds of it shrilling -Brendon was awake one time and counted- but he’s part of the ninety nine percent of society that can’t hop straight up. Instead he rolls around. He’s like a log in those lumberjack competitions on OLN where they have to try to get their opponent to fall off. By the time he’s rolled like twenty or thirty times he’s ready to get up, and Brendon is ready to hit him, or go back to sleep. It’s almost always the latter.

Once he’s sitting up, Frank has to turn on the little lamp on the dresser. It’s a compromise for the days or weeks when Frank has to get up so early. Frank doesn’t want to turn on any lights in order to not force Brendon into wakefulness beyond falling back asleep. Brendon, on the other hand, knows without light Frank’ll trip on something and fall and die. It’s fucking dark at quarter to five.

Normally Brendon would just close his eyes and roll over half a turn, waiting for his kiss to the forehead as Frank leaves the room. Today is different, for some reason he feels extra loving. He doesn’t question the urge, just stands when Frank’s done pulling his jeans on and gives him a kiss. He even goes as far as to walk him to the front door of the apartment, eyes mostly closed, boxers halfway up his asscrack. He gets in a swipe of tongue before Frank has to open the door and leave. Brendon manages to flip the deadbolt, but that’s the extent of his coherency. He probably wouldn’t notice if a giant moose was in the room, never-mind the smaller details. It’s why he doesn’t see it until he wakes up again, at the more decent hour of nine.

There’s a dollar store a block from Frank’s current primary location. He’s taken to browsing over his breaks, and filling up his apartment with random crap. Brendon actually likes the dollar store brand of wafer cookies, but the chocolate is white with age and that’s gross. The other day Brendon came over to see Frank scowling at a fridge full of word magnets, writing his own with fine tipped pen on a 9x11 sheet of magnetic paper. They didn’t have the right words, he’d explained, no pronouns or conjunctions, verbs that were useless. With Frank’s additions, they can write better messages.

Brendon grins at today’s. _i want to fuck you hard and deep_ , it’s a good message to wake up to.

He picks his cellphone off the kitchen counter and takes out the charger cord so he can take a picture. He types out _isn’t it romantic_ , then he sends both to four of the nine speed dial numbers. There’s obviously no sense in sending it to Frank, he’s the one that created it. Brendon’s agent won’t want to know. It’s not the fifties, he can be gay and still be an actor, he just can’t be friends with his agent. Apparently inviting him to a concert is a violation of professional behaviour, so something like this would be a hundred times worse. He’s pretty sure the pizza place and the Chinese place can’t take texts. And Kara just started talking to him again. Rubbing her face in his gayness will only be playing with matches at the head of a bridge.

Of those he sent it to, Gerard won’t answer until lunch, and probably the same wait can be expected from Spencer. Mikey and Ryan on the other hand should respond by the time he’s done his bowl of cereal. Ryan’s the eternal student, he always has time to answer a text while taking notes at a lecture or composing an essay in the library. Mikey should be working, but that won’t stop him from having his phone on. He’ll be buried with an active texting plan, Brendon’s pretty sure it’s in Mikey’s will.

Spencer’s comes first, it must be a slow day. _nice._ Ryan’s reply is pretty standard. _That’s not poetry. Stop sending me your creepy bf’s porn text in magnet form._ Mikey’s lack of reply totally isn’t standard at all. Brendon considers retexting him, but if he’s not answering maybe he’s getting a quickie or something. Any of the people Mikey sleeps with are entirely capable of sneaking into his work and dragging Mikey to the bathroom, not that it would be much of a drag.

A plan springs into his brain full-blown for how to spend the day, or at least the morning. Brendon pokes at it and decides kisses sound lovely, and immediately sits at Frank’s kitchen table. He starts writing out his own words on the bookmark sized piece of magnet paper that’s left. A bit of careful cutting and he’s got the perfect message to leave on the staff fridge at Frank’s primary. This film is almost entirely indoors, meaning Frank is almost always in the same place.

Brendon drives over after he rinses his bowl and shoves it in the rack to dry. He doesn’t have anything better to do, after all. There’s the normal row of cars, more than the average movie goer would expect. There’s also Mikey’s shitty Pontiac. Brendon would recognise it for the epic amount of scratches, even if Mikey wasn’t sitting cross legged on the hood. He waves, and doesn’t have a chance to say anything before Mikey says “I got kicked out.” He’s pretty sure Mikey’s rolling his eyes under the massive sunglasses.

“Didn’t that happen last time?” Brendon doesn’t need to ask, he _knows_ it happened during the last movie Frank had a speaking part in.

Mikey shrugs, the movement almost making him slide off the car. “They’re making a Frankenstein movie without dealing with the way a person’s skin shrinks after death. If you tried to sew a part to another part there would be ripping. Frank posted a picture of himself on Facebook in his makeup, it’s entirely wrong.”

“And you came here to tell them that? You blew off work to tell Frank’s make up artist that she’d doing it wrong?”

“Oh, not the artist. It’s not her fault. I spoke to the director. He had me escorted out, I think the asshat has my phone. So I’ve been waiting for Frank to come out, so I can send him back in to get it.”

Brendon is entirely unsurprised by this turn of events. “Look, I’m going in to leave Frank a message. I’ll see if I can find it, and then we’ll go play pool or something, okay?” He’s also entirely positive that if the director happens to come outside Mikey will start berating him, and then the cops might get involved, since the parking lot is still technically the studio’s territory.

“You know I’ll own you. Alicia’s a shark.”

Brendon didn’t know that, but losing horribly is a small price to pay to make sure that Mikey doesn’t get arrested. “You’re on.”


End file.
